


Curse the Streets of Gold

by JadeDraggy2017



Category: Persona 5, Persona Series
Genre: 'Bad Guy' trio Akechi Akira and Futaba, Akechi and Futaba are half siblings, Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Crossdressing, Established Relationship, Established Teammates, Implied Murder, Implied/Referenced Abuse, Implied/Referenced Rape/Non-con, M/M, Personas are useable in the real world too, There's no plot here, don't look for one its totally self indulgent, everyone hates Shido, implied raped, that being said implied character deaths, updates probably rare, victim blaming akechi, why? because there's some Persona 2 refrences in here
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-10-08
Updated: 2017-12-15
Packaged: 2019-01-10 21:57:51
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, Rape/Non-Con, Underage
Chapters: 2
Words: 10,556
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12308646
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/JadeDraggy2017/pseuds/JadeDraggy2017
Summary: It's hard being your father's hitman. But a pair of good partners makes life a bit easier.





	1. Three Together

**Author's Note:**

> I have a lot of random thoughts about an AU world where Goro, Akira, and Futaba are Shido's trio of Persona users that manipulate society in his favor whether they like it or not...
> 
> I'm just having fun here when I need a break from my more serious story.
> 
> Follow me for insanity [here](https://adraggynamedjade.tumblr.com/)

 

The Metaverse never ceased to surprise him.  
  
That a lowly subway conductor could have such an elaborate palace was slightly shocking.  
  
Well, okay, it wasn’t really the Metaverse that shocked him, but how deep people’s perversions went. Their delusions all wrapped up around themselves into complex structures and towering buildings and long underground tunnels.

It made the Metaverse a surprising place.  
  
It’d taken him three days of combing through this twisted playhouse to find his target’s Shadow. If his attire wasn’t already stripped black and midnight blue, he’d fear it’d be stained with the filth of this man’s heart. At a few points had to change, to summon out Robin Hood to solve a few puzzles, to gather and store information- Loki was no good for detective work, only for dispensing justice.  
  
And oh, the Persona gave it so well. Cleaving through Shadows with Laevatein and powerful curse spells, Loki’s strength was second to none. Well maybe second to one, but that was a test he wasn’t willing to push. However, his Persona’s unique skill, was what made it superior in his mind. The ability to send others into a blind rampage of unhinged emotion. Joker might have a sea of infinite possibilities within him, but he couldn’t _force_ others to do as he pleased.  
  
And he loved watching people crumble under the weight of their own sins.  
  
The high and mighty falling, no better than dogs. Slobbering at the mouth, howling and screaming or laughing and crying as they and their Shadows ran amok. He always imagined his targets as his father. Falling from grace, every sin a stab wound on his flesh, consuming him in pain, regret and eventually death.

Eventually his own death…  
  
But the plan today was to send this man over the edge.  
  
Though really, he wanted to shoot him in the face.  
  
The Shadow defeated, it was now cowering the floor before him. Begging him for forgiveness that he was sorry. That he’d stop beating his wife, and he’d stop drinking. He’d make it up to his kids, he’d do better.  
  
“…I don’t care about your problems,” he dragged his right hand down over his mask. The gloves on his hands extended into black talons that gently scraped along the metallic of helmet. “I don’t give two shits about it.”  
  
“T-th-then- why are you here!?”  
  
“Come now, every Shadows knows by now why the Crow calls,” he shrugged, and the Shadow flinched. He was holding his gun in his left hand. A little toy ray gun, twisted black with burnt marks around the edge of the pistol from being fired again and again. “Just enjoy yourself… In fact, go overboard tonight on the misses, I really don’t care.”  
  
He shot the Shadow in the leg for fun, listening to it scream, before summing Loki. His personal corrupted version of the deity rose up in a flurry of fire and chains. His black and white stripped body towered over him before leaning down to drape his arms over his Master’s shoulders; behind him his hooved feet crossed in the air. As it leaned in, the persona’s horns clanked against the side of his helmet.  
  
" _Shall I end this one, Master?"_  
  
“Just unchain his heart.”  
  
The Persona released him and let out a howl of laughter as it used its powers to reach into the Shadow and rip apart the chains within it, holding it back. Even Shadows as perverse as they were, kept themselves in check, separated from their true selves, so that their real lives weren’t disrupted by chaos. It was his job to bring them together, to let that madness reign in society.  
  
The Shadow screamed and rolled about. He started laughing, screaming out loud about how he was going to kill her. And then kill them all. Just drive them right off the track, he was done being trapped by them.  
  
Crow took a few steps back watching the Shadow roll around, unable to stand because he shot it in the leg. The result was satisfactory. Tomorrow there would be chaos.  
  
“Hey!” A girl’s voice rang in his ear, “Hey, Crow! Can you hear me?” It was somewhat nasally and obnoxious, even though the filter of their communications.  
  
“Yes, Navi, I hear you.”  
  
“Are you done playing with your food?”  
  
“Ugh,” he turned his back to the Shadow and started walking back to the entrance of the palace, Loki drifted behind him, “Don’t say it like that. I’m not eating them…”  
  
“Whatever. Are you done?”  
  
“Yes, I’ve finished my-”  
  
“Excellent!” She cut him off and their connection went silent.  
  
It was only a few more steps before the floor under his feet started shaking.  
  
“No,” he stopped looking around anxiously, “No, no god damn it!” He looked back at Loki, flipping his helmet up. “Where is Joker!?”  
  
The persona continued to float, leaning back like it was reclining, " _After you two subdued the Shadow he ran ahead of you. Further into the playhouse."_

“I’m going to kill him,” Crow turned on his heels and started to run. Loki’s image tapered away, bursting back into flame as his master ran for the exit of the crumbling palace. It was always a gamble to ask Joker to help with his task.  
  
They worked in different ways, they had different missions. He was strong and capable, and it was wise to have an extra hand when having to fight through a palace. But he always did _this_.  
  
“I’ll kill both him _and_ Navi.”  
  
As he was running the walls were coming down around him. The building was cracking and the black slush and the red water of the Metaverse started to pour in. The underground reclaiming the space the Shadow had carved out for itself. The floor was splitting and shifting and sinking, forcing him to jump gaps and leap down to pervious floors.  
  
It was on the last floor that he ran into the cause of the palace’s collapse.  
  
Literally.  
  
He jumped a gap in the floor and collided at full force into another teenager dressed in black and grey, his red gloves the only splash of color to him. They both fell, the other teen dropping a small wooden chest on the ground after the impact.  
  
“Joker!” He sat up screaming. “God damn it, Joker! This is not your mission!”  
  
The other teen smiled at him, his eyes gleaming with mirth as he ran a red hand through his black hair, “You invited me to help you...” He reached over and grabbed the chest before standing again. “You didn’t think I’d do it for free, did you?”  
  
Before Crow could open his mouth a large chunk of the ceiling fell behind him. There wasn’t time to yell at him now. The two turned and dashed for the exit. The palace falling to dust and debris as they vaulted out the door.

 

  
  
Crow’s feet were still carrying him, the momentum still had him running as his shoes hit the concrete streets the evening Shibuya. He stopped at the guard rail separating him form the street. His hands grasped it as he leaned forward and sighed; black gloves clinging to the metal surface. His shaggy brunette hair draped over his forehead while he leaned forward. Next to him he heard a clang as ‘Joker’ also came to a stop against the same railing.  
  
The was gasping for air, his face somewhat obscured by his messy black hair. But soon started to laugh. He pushed up his glasses and laughed out right about what had just happened.  
  
The noise only made his shoulders slump.  
  
“You’re a _damn_ idiot!” He stood and reached over and grabbed the other boy by the back of his neck. In the real world he wore a white turtle neck and a black blazer, his school uniform. “You almost got us killed, Akira!” He grabbed the white fabric and shook him violently.  
  
If it had been the day time, he might not have so easily expressed his anger. Instead reserving it for when they were at home in private. But the crowds were thin enough at this time of night that he felt like yelling. That he felt like strangling his partner.  
  
Though he’d probably get a kick out of that.  
  
“Calm down, calm down,” Akira pushed him away, but left his hand on his chest. He playfully twisted his finger’s around his black and white striped tie. “We made it out, didn’t we? You got your target and I got mine. No harm done, Goro-chan!”  
  
He bat his hand away, “Except now I have to clean up your real-world tracks. Jackass.”  
  
“Come on,” Akira shook his head, “Give me more credit than that. I had Futaba send him a calling card electronically. She’s already leaning up my ‘mess’ for you as we speak. All you have to do is get up there on TV, bat your pretty brown eyes and ‘solve’ the case as always.”  
  
Goro frowned watching the other teenager. Akira was smiling. His grey eyes still sparkling with mischievousness. The brunette just sighed in defeat. There was no reasoning with him, and what was done was done. As long as train derailed, it would be fine.  
  
“You’re such a smug idiot.”  
  
“Takes one to know one.” Akira raised his right arm and looked down at his wrist. On it he wore an old silver watch his dad used to wear. The teen examined the time before looking back to Goro. “Can we make a stop at Untouchable before we head back to the apartment.”  
  
“Untouchable? Right now?”  
  
“It’s still open! And I want to sell this and catch a train to Akihabara before we head home.” Akira held up the treasure he’d swiped from the palace. The little wooden chest had turned into a silver necklace with a heart shaped locket on the end.  
  
Goro shook his head, “Fine.” Akira started walking and Goro followed. As they made their way through the streets and into the back alleys Akira opened the locket and removed the photos inside. Pictures of a woman and two kids. He tossed them into a trash bin along the street without a second thought.  
  
Goro looked at the can as they walked by it.  
  
There was a time when he had to force Akira to steal treasures at gun point. Then again there was a time he had to kill with a gun to the back of his own head. All their witty back and forth didn’t make up for the fact that their partnership was forced.  
  
“I’ll wait outside,” he stopped just before the shop door.  
  
“You sure? Iwai will be _thrilled_ to see you,” Akira smirked at him. He knew the ex-mafia hated having Goro in his shop. Like most uninformed adults, he only saw him as the clean-cut, child prodigy detective. Not the kind of person you wanted in your store while selling and buying shady commodities. Akira pushed open the door and disappeared into the airsoft shop.  
  
Goro stood outside with his arms crossed watching the door. He could vaguely see Akira through the glass. It was plastered with military posters and images from gun magazines. Plus the lights in the store were dim to being with. But he could still see Akira standing in front of the counter, much to his relief. Sometimes he’d see him disappear into the back of the shop with the owner. And he’d leave Goro waiting forever.  
  
‘If he wasn’t the only person that bought these fucking bullshit items, I’d have him arrested.’

_“Would you really be satisfied with just that?”_

Loki’s words echoed in his ears. He could feel the Persona’s hands weighing down on his shoulders.  
  
No he wouldn’t be. He’d love to unleash Loki on the man, just to see what his desires were. Just to see what kind of violence he’d commit. But then Akira would probably stop talking to him.  
  
“-Ready!” The door swung open and Akira came out, bringing Goro out of his thoughts. “Next stop, Akihabara!”  
  
“Why do we have to go there, anyway?”  
  
“Futuaba asked me to pick up a special edition statue of Pink Argus.”  
  
“T-the one with her modified costume from the movie?” Goro fell in step with Akira. He was now very interested in Akira’s little side mission. “That’s why you stole the treasure?”  
  
“Yup. I was one thousand yen short, and there’s one left at the shop. And if I don’t get it, Futuaba’s going to hack my phone.”  
  
“And you’re getting it f-for her?” Goro bit his bottom lip.  
  
“Yup!” Akira took the stairs down to the subway, head held high. Completely ignoring the way Goro was staring at him distressed. The entire ride to Akihabara he didn’t acknowledge the fact that the detective was obviously upset over his impending purchase. That Pink Argus statue was gorgeous. He knew because he looked at it nearly every day for a month now. The sculpt was perfect, a dynamic pose of her firing her bow. The head could be swapped out for her with her helmet on or without. The base was made to support her as if she was jumping through the air while firing.  
  
And Akira was buying it for Futaba. His insides were churning.  
  
She was such a gremlin.  
  
She was doing this on purpose.  
  
Next time she went to the bathroom he was going to steal all the snacks from her room and starve her.

 

  
  
When they stepped off the train Akira walked in front of him. He urged Goro to hurry so they could get there before the store closed. But he didn’t want to hurry. He didn’t want them to get it. He wanted them to miss out. But of course, life was cruel, they made it to the store with fifteen minutes to spare. Goro walked in with Akira and watched him weave his way through the figure shop right to the statue of his dreams.  
  
Akira picked up the box, it was as tall as his torso, and carried it over to the counter.  
  
“Does she really need _this_ statue?” Goro watched as Akira pulled out his wallet.  
  
“Look, the stuff on my phone, that she says she’ll spread on the internet is _very_ confidential,” the raven-haired boy handed over his money.

“How confidential?”  
  
“You’re _in_ some of those pictures.” Akira looked at him and raised his eyebrows. There was no getting around it. The statue was being bought and he wasn’t the one buying it. The clerk bagged up the box and handed it to Akira.  
  
As the two exited the shop, the raven-haired teen had a smile on his face. He pulled out his pone to text Futaba that they were on their way home with ‘the goods’. Goro watched him with is arms crossed. How could he be so happy? How could they do this to him? Pink Argus was _his_ favorite Featherman. Robin Hood fought with a bow for a _reason_. And no, it wasn’t because he was best archer in history.  
  
He stood with his arms crossed and a scowl on his face watching Akira and the girl text. The scowl would have remained if not for the fact that a back car pulled up to the sidewalk where they were standing. Even Akira stopped texting as the window rolled down and a man wearing sunglasses leaned forward to speak to them.  
  
“You two, get in. You’re wanted.”  
  
Akira stopped smiling and Goro uncrossed his arms. Why were they wanted? They’d only just completed their assignment. The two looked at each other before approaching the car and getting into the backseat. As the car started rolling they kept quiet.  
  
All of Akira’s jokes and sarcasm and Goro’s annoyance and agitation were left on the street in front of the figure shop.

 

 

Goro sat back in his seat, looking ahead, watching to see where the driver would take them. Were they going to go to the Diet Building?  Or were they going to go to the penthouse. Going to the Diet Building would be for the best. The meetings there usually ended without incident. Just a bit of questioning, maybe some shouting. But he and Akira usually left together.  
  
So when the driver passed the turned that would have taken them to the building, Goro sighed. Apparently since he’d gotten in the car, his lungs had been harboring an excess of air. Of course, it was too late in the evening for them to be called to the Diet Building.  
  
Next to him he heard a soft clinking noise. He turned his head to see Akira had fished out a silver lighter from inside his blazer pocket and was now toying with the lid. Apparently, he too had realized they were in for a bad night.  
  
The drive was nearly twenty minutes until they arrived at an affluent apartment complex. The driver pulled into an attached parking garage and ordered them out. At the elevator another man stood waiting for them. He extended his hand and had two red pills in his palm.  
  
“You know the rules.”  
  
They each took one. Goro watched Akira throw his pill into his mouth carelessly. As if hoping he’d choke on it.

No such luck.

Goro put his on his tongue and swallowed with a bit of force, cursing Dr. Isshiki’s research as he did so. The moment he swallowed his head felt hazy. Loki’s usually callous whispers became faint, they’d be completely silent by the time they reached their destination.

They both then opened their mouths to show they’d in fact taken what they had been given.  
  
The guard nodded and pushed the call button for the elevator allowing them inside.  
  
They’d be alone in the metal lift for at least a minute. And for that entire minute the only sound Goro would hear would be Akira flicking that lighter. Sometimes he regretted bringing him the damn thing. He only took it and the watch to build some vague sense of trust between them at the start of their ‘partnership’.  
  
“Do you have to,” Goro’s eyes were fixed on the numbers over the buttons, watching them climb up to the penthouse. “That sound is annoying…”  
  
Akira turned to look at him, the bag in his left hand rustling a bit. He raised the lighter up to Goro’s ear and flicked the lid open again.  
  
Goro reached up to grab his wrist, “One of these days I’m going to shoot you.”  
  
“Only shoot me? No dramatic death like pushing my parents’ car off the cliffside? I’m almost offended.” It was the last thing said between the two of them before the doors opened. What could he say, really? That he only had to go to such lengths because facing two Persona users in combat was not something he could handle back then? That their sacrifice was needed? That his father wanted to control the Metaverse and that meant all threats had to eliminated, any Persona users that didn’t answer to him had to go. He didn’t know at time Akira was going to test positive for the potential. That they were going to drag him into this hell scape of a life style.

He was just sent to kill a cop and his lover.

But it was fair that Akira resented him for it. He resented himself for it.

The two stepped off and approached the door to the penthouse. Again, they were greeted with another toady watching the door that directed them through the lavish apartment to the office of the one that summoned them.  
  
The moment Goro opened the door a man’s voice hit his ears with an angry tone.  
  
“You’re both late,” inside the man was pacing around his office, still wearing his suit with a glass of some alcoholic drink in his hand.  
  
“Your men drove us here,” Akira replied. Goro glanced at him; Akira’s eyes full were of hate. He really didn’t need Akira to spout his biting sarcasm right now.  
  
“We’re terrible sorry, Shido-san, we didn’t know you were expecting us tonight.”  
  
The man stopped pacing in front of them. His hand holding the glass thrust forward, deliberately splashing what was left of his drink in Goro’s face. The teenager didn’t flinch, however, he barely blinked.  
  
“I meant dealing with the Minister of Transportation! He should have resigned by now! Where is your case! Where’s the final derailed trained! It’s been a week since I told you to take care of it!”  
  
“Ah,” Goro finally reached up and began whipping the drink form his face, “The final target, had a complex Palace. We just dealt with his Shadow tonight. It should all fall into place tomorrow, Shido-san. There’s no need to worry.”  
  
Goro watched as the man continued to glare at him. The answer wasn’t satisfactory.  
  
“There’s two of you- three of you! You should be able to get this work done in a day! Instead you stupid kids waste time playing around on TV and with your ‘friends’,” he pointed at them, “What I assign you takes priority!” He turned around and made his way over to a cabinet to pour himself another drink. Still cursing the two of them, calling them lazy.  
  
“I assure you, Shido-san, we’re not procrastinating with these assignments. I spent the last three nights in that palace, I had to call Joker in to clear a path faste-”  
  
“If you think it’s so easy, why don’t you go in the Metaverse yourself.”  
  
Goro’s head snapped in Akira’s direction as quickly as Shido’s did. He wasn’t looking at the politician, but he could already imagine how angry he looked. The raven-haired boy was extra defiant today. He had crossed his arms, the bag still in his hands.  
  
“Akira, does not mean that Shido-san… Right, _Akira_?”  
  
Akira turned to glance at him, his lips turned down, “Of course not… I don’t expect him to go. Just send someone else like he always does.”  
  
Goro’s lips moved but no sound came out. He mouthed to Akira ‘Why are you like this?’ As Shido came back across the room. As soon as he was within reach he grabbed Akira by the scalp and pulled him forward.  
  
“You’re the worst of the three,” he sneered. “What is that bullshit in your hands?”  
  
Akira, despite being pulled by his hair, kept his sharp tongue. “You’re a politician, you should know what all kinds of bullshit are at a glance.”  
  
Shido reached out to snatch it form him, but Akira pulled his arms back. He held it out defiantly behind his back and kept talking.  
  
“It’s for Futaba,” he glared, “And if you break it, I’ll come back here with Arsene and fight my way up to you to break your arm in return!”  
  
There was pregnant pause before Shido started to laugh. Not that he was amused. “Akechi, you can go. I expect to see you ‘solving’ this case tomorrow.”  
  
“Ah, yes, Shido-san.” He didn’t move, looking still At Akira, who’s eyes looked to him and then back at the bag. Goro reached out and took it, but he hesitated to leave. “Shido-san, he should leave with me- You don’t need to exhaust yourself. I’m sure you have plenty to do tomo-”  
  
“Get out, Akechi, or you’re next.”  
  
Goro didn’t nod, or say anything else. He just turned, carrying the Pink Argus figure and stepped out of the office.  
  
He lingered in the hallway for a bit, contemplating on if he should leave the penthouse completely or wait. In the few seconds he was outside he heard the sound of glass breaking and a sudden cry. He stood outside the door listening to the sounds of a struggle felt his stomach reach up to twist itself around his heart.  
  
Some small fraction of him felt it was better that it was Akira and not him. Not anymore. Since he’d been dragged into this a year ago he was no longer the target of Shido’s ager or desires. But the rest of him felt sick at that thought, that feeling of relief.

He was a horrible person.  
  
“…Loki,” he whispered to the air, but nothing responded. He took a deep breath and tried again. He knew it would be hours before he could call either of his Personas again. He was going to stand there, listening until one of Shido’s men patrolling the apartment spotted him. He told him to leave, the driver was waiting for him. So reluctantly he went home without the other boy.

  
  
  
The drive back was longer it seemed. Goro’s eyes stayed fixed on the apartment until it was out of sight. The Pink Argus statue sat on his lap the entire ride home.  
  
Their apartment wasn’t as big as Shido’s, but it was big enough for three teenagers. They were surrounded by actual families living in the building. Parents and kids, grandparents and their children. Their apartment was the odd one out, three people lived there, but only two ever came and went.  
  
Inside he kicked off his shoes and announced into the open air that he was back. No one responded. Not that he expected a verbal response. He made his way to the bedroom at the back of the apartment and knocked.  
  
“Futaba… Futaba I know you’re awake.” His phone suddenly buzzed in his pocket.  
  
                **Alibaba:** What do you want?  
  
“I have your statue, open the door,” he kept his eyes on his phone but kept talking out loud.  
  
                **Alibaba:** Wait! 「(°ヘ°) Why do you have my statue? Where’s Akira?

“….Shido kept Akira. He wants me to deliver this to you.”  
  
                **Alibaba:** Why the hell are you here and not with Akira then!? (ノಠ益ಠ)ノ彡┻━┻

“I was made to leav- Look do you want this god damn statue or not!?” He started kicking the door angrily. He didn’t need a gremlin to lecture him on how he’d just left Akira behind. He already knew it was a shitty thing to do. One more on the long list of his sins. No one else needed to tell him that.

In the midst of his kicking the door suddenly opened up. Revealing for a brief moment a glimpse into the room. Across from the door there was a desk with computer monitors, towers, and wires reaching the ceiling, and shelves wrapped around the walls lined with figures. What areas of the wall were visible were covered with posters from shows and games. On some of the monitors all corners of the apartment were displayed, on others the surrounding city block, or images form within the Metaverese.  
  
Sitting at the desk with her back to him, he could see Futaba’s long red hair and the back of her head phones.  
  
He only caught a glimpse of her before he felt a chill run through him as a set of long grasping metallic arms burst out from the empty space behind the chair. They had neon lights running up and down them in a rainbow of colors and little pincers for hands. They reached for the bag and Goro jumped back.  
  
They continued to follow him, snapping away until one grabbed his tie to hold him still and another grabbed the bag and retracted. The metal arm holding him also let go and retreated into the room and the door slammed shut. After it did the image of a metal ball appeared, completely engulfing the door, the circuitry on it looking like a giant smiling face before fading away.  
  
“God, Futaba!” he came up to the door again, banging on it, “Stop using your giant metal hamster ball to answer the door and come out like real human!”

                **Alibaba:** Thanks for the statue! And, no I will not come out. (b^_^)b

Goro signed and rubbed his face in exhaustion.  
  
“If you weren’t my half-sister I’d shoot you.”  
  
                **Alibaba:** Didn’t stop you from shooting my mom.

Goro sighed. He didn’t have a response. Not like he could have one anyway. That was twice in one night he was reminded how awful it was to be him.

He turned away from the door and left her alone for the night. He should have kept the statue for himself.

 

He didn’t talk to her again until an hour later when he was making himself dinner. Really it was for Akira whenever he’d return, he didn’t feel like eating much. But Futaba was watching him grabbing indigents and started texting him.  
  
                **Alibaba** : What are you making?

“Curry!” he shouted out. “So, Akira can eat when he gets back.”

                **Alibaba:** I want some. ( つ•̀ω•́)つ

“Then come out of your room.”

                **Alibaba:** Akira always brings me my food.  
  
“Yeah well Akira’s not here…” he rolled his eyes and put his phone down. He still brought her a plate to her door. But this time he set it down and backed up so Prometheus wouldn’t attack him. He watched from the end of the hall as again the metal arms opened the door, grabbed the plate and shut it once again.

As he was walking back to the kitchen his phone went off.

                **Alibaba:** This sucks! (ತ ೧ ತ)

He stopped and turned back to the door screaming at her, “It’s the same recipe Akira uses! It’s your mother’s recipe!”

 **Alibaba:** Akira puts love in it! Where’s the love Akechi? For once in your life have some so at least your food doesn’t taste like shit!

“If you don’t like it starve!” he walked away and sat on the couch with his arms crossed. His phone kept buzzing but he ignored it. He should head to his room and start working on what he was going to say for the subway case. He already had all the files about the damaged tracks, funds being funneled away from upkeep, pay cuts among the drivers, and a whole host of evidence that things were corrupt in that branch of government. It wasn’t hard to find the evidence, but there was no reason to bring it to light until accidents started happening. And then kept happening.

Anything to dismantle the government and put Shido on top as Japan’s savior.

He should be working on that…  
  
But instead he sat on the couch and waited for Akira to come home.

 

  
  
It wasn’t until after three in the morning that the front door opened. Akechi had fallen asleep with his head tilted back over the couch. When he heard the door open his neck was stiff, but he still forced himself to sit up and groaned.  
  
Akira had closed the door by the time he got up. The other boy looked tired. His clothes were sloppily hanging on him, there was dried blood stuck in his hair and on the right side of his face and bruise forming on the left side of his cheek.  
  
He was just leaning against the door, his gaze unfocused.  
  
“Akira?” Goro walked towards him. He reached out to touch his shoulder but was stopped. Not by Akira’s hand, but by his Persona’s. Reaching out from his soul the black hand with elongated fingers lashed out to stop him.  
  
“Don’t touch me, Akechi. Just- don’t-”  
  
Arsene pushed him away and Akira pushed off the door and made his way to the bathroom. Goro crossed his arms and sighed and followed.  
  
“There’s curry in the fridge.”  
  
“I’m not hungry.”  
  
“Well, have it tomorrow.”  
  
“Sure, whatever,” he closed the bathroom door on Goro, forcing the other to retreat to his room for the night.  
  
The brunette fell back on his bed and instantly Loki appeared over him. The trickster god hovering with his arms and legs crossed in his usual relaxing manor. He must have gained the ability to summon him back while he was sleeping.  
  
" _We could strike now… Crush him while he’s resting. Take revenge for every death, every scar, every broken person."_  
  
“No,” Goro rolled over to face the wall. “Not yet, I want him to fall harder than anyone ever has. I want the impact, the shock to break his neck.”

_"And what about those two?"_

“…” Goro closed his eyes, “I guess when it’s all over I’ll let them break mine.”  
  
He dismissed his Persona, not feeling the need to listen to the thing drone on about the violence he was harboring in his heart. Not long after he heard a soft knocking at his door. Goro rolled over and got up to open it.  
  
To his surprise Akira was standing there, his head bandaged up, and a patch over his cheek; he had his hands behind his back, and one of Prometheus’ arms was extending down the hall to join him.  
  
“What is it?”  
  
“We got you a surprise,” Akira brought his hands forward and extended the Pink Argus statue to him. “We were going to save it for your birthday… But it’s been a really shitty day.”  
  
                **Alibaba:** It’s not a great surprise since SOME IDIOT took you to the store with him to get it! ಠ-ಠ  
  
“What do you want from me? The Palace took longer than expected,” Akira shouted back down the hall. Prometheus reached up and smacked him on the back of the head before extending one finger and waving it back and forth.  
  
Goro took the box, startled.  
  
“B-but why? I mean- you two… Hate me?”  
  
Akira shrugged, “I hate your dad more.”  
  
                **Alibaba:** Agreed. Dad is far worse a human being than you could ever aspire to be. Plus your room is boring, fucking decorate it!  ｡･:*:･ﾟ★,｡･:*:･ﾟ☆ (ó ꒳ ò)  
  
“Ha,” he nodded, and ran his tongue over his lips a bit anxious, a bit happy. “Thank you.” The metal arm retreated back to Futaba’s room but Akira stayed.  
  
“Can I come in?”  
  
“Sure… But I have to be up in three hours,” Goro shut the door behind him.  
  
“That’s fine, I just want to sleep. I’m skipping school tomorrow.” Akira laid down on the bed next to the wall. Goro put the statue on his desk before lying down on his back and looking up at the ceiling.  
  
“…Akira… About- about Shido-”  
  
“I’m never going to stop,” Akira cut him off. “I don’t care how much it hurts.” The other teenager was toying with the watch on his wrist. “If he thinks I’m going to respect him- you can put on that act for the both of us. But one of these days, that pill’s not going to work. And Arsene is going to throw him from that penthouse window.”  
  
“Just promise me we’ll do it together, okay?” Goro raised on hand off the bed.  
  
Akira took it and held on tight.


	2. At a Crossroad

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Goro thinks a lot of things about Akira and his point of view and how there's no good in the world. But maybe justice can be kind?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

>  **Me:** Okay, Brain! Now that we have some free time let's work on Sumaru City!  
>  **Brain:** Okay but...  
>  **Me:** Brain.  
>  **Brain:** What if...  
>  **Me:** ...Brain, NO!  
>  **Brain:** ...But what if instead...?  
>  **Me:** _Sobbing_ I just want to FOCUS ON ONE THING.  
>  **Brain:** Never.
> 
>  
> 
> Follow me for insanity [here](https://adraggynamedjade.tumblr.com/)

Thirty-one times. That's how many times his phone had buzzed in his pocket. It was persistent, so much so that every time it went off someone looked his way. They were starting to get suspicious.  
  
“You've been working this case all night, shouldn't you go home?”  
  
“Yeah, don't you have school tomorrow kid?”  
  
“Leave this to the adults.”  
  
The ‘adults’, what a joke. How he hated dealing with beat cops. However it came with the territory of being a detective. A murder/suicide was what was keeping him out late tonight. Of course Goro knew the victim. He's known him for a week. At Shido's orders he'd been in and out of his palace, altering his cognition, sending him wild before snuffing out his Shadow.  
  
Goro felt his phone alert him to a new text.  
  
He was a rival senator, one of the few who spoke out about Shido's influence and power. Often demanding investigations into his uncanny ability raise money and support. He wasn't a good man himself, however. Had a vice for prostitutes. It was easy to push his lust to its limit. The girl was an accident, however. He was just supposed to die in some kinkfest, his name and reputation shamed across every tabloid as his final legacy would be he died a dirty deviant.  
  
But he was supposed to die alone.  
  
Goro was genuinely sorry about that. He'd send flowers to her grave.  
  
His phone buzzed again.  
  
“Really,” another cop spoke up again, “Go home, kid. That's probably your mom calling asking where you are.”  
  
His mom. God, what was that officer's name? He'd see him in the Metaverse soon enough.  
  
_‘Temper, temper…’_ Loki teased in his ear. Though really he could feel his persona salivating at the thought of harming someone tonight.  
  
He'd been in the real world doing real detective work all day. In and out of this grimy room in a love hotel in Shinjuku. Stepping over dropped wine bottles, helping take pictures of an aged old man's naked body, taking statements and trying not to gag at every odd smell or unidentified fluid they documented around the room.  
  
And to make matters worse his phone started buzzing about two hours ago and would not stop.  
  
“Akechi-san,” a woman's stern voice came to his ear. At a glance she was beautiful. The kind of woman a boy his age should salivate over. Her asymmetrical silver hair, sharp fashionable black suit, and piercing brown eyes. She's a vision of beauty, but he only recognized her as a colleague.  
  
“Ah, Sae-san, I just finished up the last bit of documentation on the scene. I'm ready to head back to the office and-"  
  
She held up her hand stopping him. Sae was a very serious woman. Probably the only adult he trusted to do any sort of good in this world- though at the same time he felt her naïve for thinking good could be achieved at all. Still, she had his respect. In another life he could have looked up to her.  
  
“I'll enter it in. Its very late, too late for a student to be seen running around the red light district.”  
  
Goro chuckled, “Well crime has no curfew unfortunately.” He motioned around the room, “And considering the high profile of the victim it was important to establish if this was a murder or not.” He held his chin and looked away from her to hide a bit of a crooked smile. “But either way, tomorrow's headlines will be a mess.”  
  
“Agreed,” Sae sighed. “None the less, I'll take over here. I'll see you tomorrow afternoon. Alright?”  
  
At the end of her sentence his phone buzzed once more. She said nothing but gave him a slight nod; a quick and quiet way of dismissing him to deal with his personal messages. Goro grabbed his suitcase and left the room one final time. On his way out of the hotel he squinted, eyes adjusting to the garish neon of the red light district at night.  
  
He pulled out his phone and cursed.  
  
Thirty-three messages from Akira. That brat.

 **JokersWild:** I'm bored. Talk to me.

 **JokersWild:** Goro what are you doing? Are you at work?  
  
             **JokersWild:** Futaba went to sleep and I'm dying its such a slow night, GORO!  
  
             **JokersWild:** Goro! _GORO! **GORO!!!** _ (@>皿<)

  
He felt his teeth grind as he scrolled through the long list of random, boredom sent text.

  
             **LawfulEvil:** Akira, for the love of god, stop texting me. I was at a crime scene.  
  
             **JokersWild:** Oh… For the senator?  
  
             **LawfulEvil:** Yes. I just left. He turned up dead in Shinjuku.  
  
             **JokersWild** : Really!? That's great! Come see me! Crossroads is dead!

  
Goro stopped walking. He had been on his way to the station. Going to the miserable dive bar Akira had somehow secured a job at wasn't out of his way. However… He didn't want to be seen in there.

  
             **LawfulEvil:** If it's dead, shouldn't the owner let you leave?  
  
             **JokersWild:** Lala's out. Ohya had some issues. She took her to make sure she got home. The doors are locked, I'm here doing inventory.  
               It sucks.  
  
             **LawfulEvil:** Should I really come by then?  
  
             **JokersWild:** YES!!

He sighed. To Crossroads it was then. Hopefully no one who recognized him would see him make his way there.

Akira had a thing for acquiring odd jobs. The one at the convince store and the flower shop were reasonable. The one at Untouchable was questionable, but the one at Crossroads was easily Goro’s least favorite.  
  
He stood at the door of the tiny bar and knocked. It took all his will power not to scowl. Loki's hands tapping mockingly along his shoulder as he waited didn't help. When the door opened, for a brief moment his expression lit up.  
  
On the other side of the door was Akira. And though he was expecting a sight, he often forgot Akira can be striking in more ways than one. A long black wig that covered his left eye, an emerald green sleeveless cocktail dress, black leggings and ankle high boots and just enough makeup to make you wonder if he was blushing or not.  
  
It was cute.  
  
And it was why he hated Crossroads.  
  
“You made it,” he swung open the door. “Sit down I'll get you a drink.”  
  
Goro entered scanning the bar quickly, though he knew no one would be there, before taking a seat. “Aren't you forbidden from serving drinks?”  
  
“I can serve water. Not like you'd drink anything else.” Akira re-locked the door and made his way behind the counter, sliding one hand over it as he spoke. He grabbed a glass and turned it over in his hand before adding a few cubs of ice and filling it nearly to the top. He set it down in front of Goro, smiling and leaned to let one elbow rest on the counter. “Anything else, handsome?”  
  
There it was, the reason he hated Crossroads.  
  
Goro could just imagine all the gross, old on lookers that sat on this very stool and asked for a glass of water. Or worse, asked for nothing and just sat there watching. Drunk or sober, just watching, idly chatting, egregiously flirting…  
  
Oh, Akira had already assured him he was fine. There were rules. He stayed behind the counter when patrons were present. If anyone reached over the counter he was allowed to deal with them. They hadn't had any incidents, but that didn't mean that every time Akira came home with a generous tip Goro didn't fight his urge to ask for a name. And Loki's insisting that he shouldn't fight that desire didn’t help.  
  
“Stop that, will you, its ridiculous.” He took his water and sipped it.  
  
Akira came around and sat on the bar top next to him, crossing one leg over the other in a grand motioned that kicked up the end of his dress just a bit.  
  
“So, how bad was it? The old guy's death?”  
  
“He killed the girl he was with at the time too…” He kept sipping his water. He didn’t move his head, but his eyes kept glancing at the leg closest to him. Akira was bobbing his foot up and down, making his leg move as well.  
  
“Damn. That sucks…” he stopped moving his leg and leaned over so was in Goro's vision. “You okay?”  
  
He shrugged. It didn't matter did it? Shido wouldn't care. As long as the thorn in his side was removed.  
  
Akira remained half leaned over like that, the hair of the wig falling to the side to show his entire face. He hated it. He hated how good it looked and that more people than he knew saw it.  
  
“I thought the owner said you didn't have to dress up.”  
  
“But I want to,” the other boy sat back up, “And I get more tips this way.”  
  
Goro made a noise of dissatisfaction.  
  
“Look what I got tonight! From one guy!” Akira leaned over the back of the counter to get his bag. When he couldn't reach it he rolled over onto his stomach, leaning over, one leg in the air. Goro watched with an expression bit confused and frustrated.  
  
He reached over to grab Akira's leg and pull it down, “Just get down and walk idiot!”  
  
“Got it!” He pulled himself back up and dug out his wallet. “We had one patron tonight… But look!”  
  
Akira put a small stack of bills on the table. At least ten thousand yen.  
  
“Why so much…” Goro looked at him confused.  
  
Akira struck a dramatic pose, with one hand behind his head and the other on his knee. “He said I looked just like Junko Kurosu in ‘The Stars and Us'! We talked about her old movies for an hour. He was excited I knew them.” Akira relaxed his pose. “Actually, he said he didn’t think anyone my age was a fan of hers.”  
  
“And,” Goro watched Akira collect the money, “What did you tell him?” He asked, all amusement absent from his voice.  
  
“Naturally, I told him, it would be shameful of me to not know my own Grandmother's Cinematography.”  
  
“Akira!” Goro slammed his palm down, causing his glass to shake and spill. “You can't say that! Not even to these idiot drunks! What's wrong with you! If anyone finds you-“  
  
“Relax, holy crap! Goro, I'm kidding…” Akira slid off the counter. “I just told him I'm a drama student. And I take a lot of inspiration from old works…”  
  
The two were silent for a moment. Akira turned away from him as he put his money and bag away. The real answer was only half a lie. Akira had been a drama student before coming to Tokyo. But, he had to drop his old hobbies along with his old name.  
  
Goro watched him silently begin cleaning up the water. He did kind of look like the old actress in that dress, with that hair, in this dim light…  
  
So this is why Akira likes working here.  
  
Goro couldn't even think of a single movie of Kurosu's. But Akira probably knew them all. He'd probably appreciate owning a few of them again…  
  
He watched the other teenager silently clean up the water and ice before wiping down the glass. Akira was looking down at bar, not at him. It hurt. Silence often reflected moments of pain between them. But that's what held them together in the end. Pain, suffering, injustice.  
  
But it hurt a bit more when Akira was quiet. Because when he wasn't talking it was a stark reminder that Goro himself was the source of all of those things in Akira's life.  
  
“As long as you're here,” Akira started talking again, “Do you think you can solve a case for me?”  
  
“A case… For you?”  
  
“You're allowed to, right? I mean we have to make our own income. And you used to solve odd cases a lot more before your dad started piling the work on.” He stopped aimlessly cleaning and looked up at him. One grey eye fixed on his face. “Its an honest gig. We haven't done on in months. I think it'd be good for you. For us.”  
  
“Good for us? What does that even mean Akira…” Goro scoffed and picked up his glass. There wasn’t much water left, but he still nursed it slowly.  
  
“Don’t you get tired of always doing wrong? Always doing Shido's work. Even you had to have liked when we did things that actually made others happy. Gave real justice to these frauds.”  
  
Goro scoffed. Akira was so sentimental. He only did what he did to survive. Not for the praise of others… He looked into the bottom of his glass. In the dim light his reflection looked scared. He didn't do this for others, it was for his survival. The fame, the accolades, the power, the praise. The hollow love and adoration, the acceptance.  
  
It didn't mean anything, really.  
  
“Some of the kids I hang out with are being harassed.”  
  
Goro put his glass down and looked away, “Then tell them to take it to the teachers.”  
  
“It _is_ a teacher,” Akira crossed his arms. “I kind of… Ignored it at first. But lately he's become more aggressive. Forcing himself on girls on the volleyball team, on others around school. Physically assaulting players who don't perform the way he wants.”  
  
“… Akira, Shujin Academy is one of Shido's investments. We can't afford to bring it bad publicity.”  
  
“So we won't!” Akira pressed his palms on the counter, “You start an investigation, we take on his palace- no matter what outcome confession or suicide people will just say he did it cause you were closing in- you get to be a hero!”  
  
“And the school is in local headlines for employing a predator.”  
  
“It will blow over.” Akira crossed his arms.  
  
“It will not,” Goro looked at the scowl on his face. “…Is he bothering you?”  
  
“No, I'm not in sports. Or a girl. He kind of talks down to me but that's it.”  
  
The brunette sighed, “Then no.”  
  
“What! Just because I'm not being attacked you won't help?”  
  
“Your friends aren't my problem. You are.”  
  
Akira turned away from him tossing his towel into a bin, “Then I'll do it without you, Akechi.” The brunette noted he was downgraded to his surname now that Akira was upset.  
  
“You will not!” Goro was sure if he still had water in his glass he would have knocked it over a second time. Akira said nothing. His angry glare said it all. He was going to try that palace without him. He'd cause a huge scene, get them both in trouble and more heavily watched than before. And all for what?  
  
His friends? These kids that barely knew him? Goro knew the real him, they only knew an Akira that existed under a pretext of lies and false hoods. They only knew the Akira of this world, not the cognitive one. Not Joker, not the sassy, sticky fingered, battle ruthless thief of hearts. Not the angry and bitter teenager trapped in unjust game, fighting for his life and freedom.  
  
Why risk it all for them? Akira was supposed to risk it all for _him_. For his cause, for his life, for his justice. They were in this together, till death claimed one or both of them. Or until Akira killed him to escape.  
  
He opened his mouth, ready to warn him about the consequences of what he was doing. That defying him was going to set the two of them on a road to clash well before they took down Shido. That he'd unleash Loki on his friends if he had to, to stop him-  
  
However the sound of keys rattling in the door came to his ear. They both turned their heads to see Lala entering the bar. The woman had an elegant air about her, maybe it was the kimono. Goro certainly didn't feel it was the heavy makeup job. But she carried herself with statuesque poise and dignity that didn't fit the red light district.  
  
“Taking in patrons?” she spoke to Akira.  
  
“Eh, no sorry… This is my friend. He was close by so I asked him to keep me company.” Akira reached under the counter and pulled out a clipboard. “I finished inventory.”  
  
Lala took the board, but didn't look at it, instead focusing on Goro. “You look a little young to be down here at this time of night.”  
  
“I'm down here working,” he plastered on his classic plastic smile. Used to disarm any punitive stares from adults. “Nothing as glamorous as Akira. I work as detective.”  
  
“Ah, so you must have been at the crime scene I had to fight to keep Ohya from sticking her nose in,” the woman shook her head before turning back to Akira. “Alright Kuru-chan, I'll close down. Why don't you two leave, its too late for kids to be out.”  
  
‘Kuru-chan'. The name was distasteful to his ears. Goro could just imagine patrons echoing it back at Akira.  
  
The black haired boy grabbed his bag and stepped out from around the counter. Lala asked him about changing, but Akira insisted he didn't want to make Goro wait. So the boy detective stood and left with him.

  
Outside the two were still not talking to each other. The only sounds to reach Goro's ears were those of the late night city: car horns, store shop jingles, traffic light signals, the occasional drunk, his own sighing and the steady clack of Akira's heels.  
  
_‘If he tries it, you'll have to deal with him.’_ Loki muttered in his ear. The Persona seemed to be whispering to him, though it was pointless to do so. No one else would hear him. Akira couldn't hear Loki unless the Persona wanted that, just as he couldn't hear Arsene. For all he knew the two were plotting how to take on that palace right now. Just as Loki was advising him on how to deal with Akira.  
  
He didn't want to deal with Akira though. That's not what he wanted… He wanted Akira to survive this. But if he started acting out of turn, Shido would order him dead.  
  
_‘And if he's dead, who will deal with you?’_  
  
Yes, that too. He knew he was a corrupt as the men and women he took down for Shido. He'd taken innocent lives and guilty ones. He had no right to survive after his father fell. Akira would have to be the one to execute justice upon him.  
  
Maybe he could reason with him. Maybe Akira would see the error of trying this plan. Maybe, maybe he'd understand Goro can't do good just for good's sake…  
  
Suddenly Akira stopped walking. Goro took a few more steps before looking back at him. They were right near the station what had stopped him?  
  
He looked back to see a drunk man stumbling behind them, calling to them. Goro hadn't noticed at all.  
  
“Junko!” The man called, holding out his hand grasping at the air as if trying to grab something. Akira watched him approach; he was an out of breath, pot bellied, balding salaryman in a dingy brown suit. “Jun-Junko… I- I finally caught up to you.”  
  
“Oh,” Akira watched him bend over, hands on his knees struggling to breathe. “Did you, forget something at the bar?”  
  
“No! I went back! The owner said that you'd gone! That it was closed! I wanted to- to- come back- to talk to you more!”  
  
Goro frowned. Akira seemed unphased by the man. Time and experience in dealing with his kind he supposed.  
  
“Well I don't have a shift again until next week.” Akira shrugged. “I'll see you then.” He turned and looked as if he was ready to tell Goro they could continue but halted suddenly. Rather he was halted. The man grabbed the strap of his bag and pulled.  
  
“W-we don't have to wait that long! You can- can come over! We can watch The Stars and Us!”  
  
Akira twisted in place and grabbed the rest of his bag, “Sorry! I don't deal with patrons outside of work!” He pulled back ripping himself free. He was so calm in dealing with this man. But the longer the spoke the more Goro could hear Loki's voice twisting like a dagger in his chest.  
  
_‘Just one quick blow and he'd be out… He's never going to leave. He'll come back every week…’_  
  
But would one swift hit really make him feel satisfied?  
  
“Good-bye,” Akira took a step back again before he started walking quickly. This time not stopping to tell Goro to follow. But he didn’t need to be. As they walked away the man kept calling to them. Naming other movies they could watch or TV shows. Before the two had been walking side by side, but this time the brunette reached over to put a hand on Akira's back as they out paced the man, leaving him on the street while they went into the subway.  
  
No one else was on the platform. Akira approached the line and let out a sigh. “How annoying.”  
  
“You bring it on yourself,” Goro muttered, annoyed.  
  
“Wow,” Akira crossed his arms, “Real classy. No wonder your refusing to help out my friends.”  
  
“That-“ he pointed at Akira, “That is not at all what were talking about right now! I'm talking about you and this stupid job!” He motioned up and down, “Don't act like you didn't pick that outfit and that wig for just this kind of reaction! You were gloating about the attention not a half hour ago!”  
  
“Really?!” Akira hissed at him, “You're going to do this now? Getting tips and following me are two different things! Holy hell, you work for the police you should know better!”  
  
“I know you're the one at fault here! You're supposed to keep a low profile! You're supposed to stay hidden! Instead you get- shady jobs! And flirt with lonely old men dressed up like a washed up actress just to cause a scene and draw attention to yourself!” Akira opened his mouth to retort but he was cut off by Goro continuing, “And then you want to cause an upset at your school! Like that's not going get more spot light thrown your way- your trying to be found!”  
  
“I am not!” Akira snapped back.  
  
“Just when I think things are going according to plan- you, you start acting up again. Well you know what- you're quitting this job! Your quitting all of them! And so help me if you so much as _touch_ a shadow at that school your ‘friends' are next on the list!”  
  
Akira didn't say anything after that. Instead he responded with his fist. Right to Goro's left cheek. He swung so angry and so quickly. If the other could have heard his Persona he'd have heard Arsene encouraging him to do it. To let his anger boil over and let Goro know he wasn't going to be controlled. Not on this.  
  
The sudden blow sent him staggering, falling back and away from the edge of the platform.  
  
_“Fuck you!”_ Akira stood both hands clenched tight, “If you think I'm going to let you- go after one more person I love-!” Goro watched for a moment as he saw a Persona taking shape behind Akira. But it wasn't Arsene. God though he wished it was.  
  
The dark crimson red was similar to Arsene, but he could see it stripped with white and adorned with gold. The uniform itself was tattered, singed, smudged with soot, despite the Persona bearing flames of its own. The fringes of the face mask were carved in red and black swirls of a flame, but the face plate was cracked. Revealing underneath on the right side the icy stare of a man's pale face and one golden eye, like a shadow.  
  
Not much unnerved Goro like the manifestation of Apollo within Akira. How his father's persona had latched on to him, via memory or proxy of the lighter bestowed upon him. But what got him was it changed. How it looked hurt. How he could vaguely see remnants of the original master glaring out at him through the face plate. And in its stare, all the hatred Akira had in his heart for the family taken from him.  
  
“Akira!” Goro stood up, he could feel Loki at his back, at the ready to strike. He could take Apollo. Specially this broken version of it. “Akira, listen to me.”  
  
“No you listen! I'm sick of this! We could do something good for a change! Our miserable lives could do something good! But you're so- self absorbed you won't even try! Its about your plan! Your goal! You! You're just like your god damn father!!”  
  
Apollo raised its hand, attacks outside the cognitive world didn't deal the same damage but could hurt. Goro braced himself, ready to call upon Loki and force Akira back. A fight he didn't want to have tonight, if ever. Yet, he braced himself for nothing.  
  
The persona flickered out, fading from view as Akira looked past him. His expression shocked and sad.  
  
_‘He's back.’_  
  
Loki didn't have to specify. He turned around to see the drunk stumbling down the stairs, nearly falling and breaking his leg as he entered the station.  
  
“Junko…” he had his eyes fixed on Akira.  
  
The other boy sighed and lowered his head. “Sir. Please. Go home already.”  
  
“Look- look!” He stumbled past Goro to stand between them. “I get it- I know!” He thrust his hand forward offering Akira a fist full of bills. “Right, like at the bar… Now its like work so you’ll come back with me, right?”  
  
“What? No!” Akira pushed him back exasperated. “Will you go away! I'm not even the real Junko! I'm a teenager in drag! Get lost!” His patience was up. He couldn't believe the man was this persistent.  
  
He dropped the money and grabbed Akira's shoulders shaking him. “No! No- you have to come back with me please! I swear we'll just talk! I promise! Just come with me!”  
  
“Excuse me,” Goro spoke up, tapping the man on the shoulder. He smiled at him, but not quiet his usual façade. His eyes glimmered with anger and his grin was dripping with poison. “I believe he asked you to leave. So… Leave!”  
  
Goro grabbed the man by the scruff of his shirt, over his hand Loki's claws extended. He pulled back and his persona hoisted the drunk up. The man started kicking and screaming he dropped all his money as Loki turned and held him out over the tracks.  
  
“Akechi!” Akira grabbed his arm.  
  
“Do you hear that? Sounds like the train is coming…”  
  
“Akechi, tell Loki to put him down!”  
  
“Not yet… Listen!” Loki shook the man in the air before covering his mouth to stifle his sobs. “He said to leave him alone. So you're going to leave. And you are _never_ to come back to Crossroads, understand?” The man continued to cry and swing his legs. “Do you understand!?”  
  
The man finally nodded crying, the detective couldn't help but laugh at the growing wet spot on his pants. Goro motioned for Loki to put him down, tossing him back over their heads onto the platform. He landed with a thud before getting up and scrambling away.  
  
Akira watched him flee up the stairs, pissed pants and all as the other teenager reached out and put his arm around his shoulder. He turned back around silent; and they stood their until the train approached.  
  
“…Akira?”  
  
“Yes, Akechi?”  
  
The detective squeezed his hand hard on the other teenager's shoulder as he came to a decision.  
  
“What's the teacher's name?”  
  
Akira turned his head to look at him shocked as the train came to a stop. A smile spread across his face when the doors opened.  
  
“Suguru Kamoshida.”  
  
“Right.”  
  
They stepped onto the train together. Akira even stuck by Goro's side as he grabbed onto the hand rail. Slightly leaning into him as his arm stayed on his shoulder. For a moment, their reflection in the glass was a normal sight. Akira looked happy. And so did he.  
  
But as soon as they started moving he caught Loki looming over his image. Its head turned toward Akira, and though his persona lacked eyes- he could see its gaze was filled with malice for the other teenager. This was not according to plan.  
  
But he could do good for good’s sake just this once.

  
_Just this once._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Being a writer is 80% great ideas and 15% begging your brain to focus on one and 5% crying.


End file.
